


Responsibilities

by Twisted_Mind



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, BDSM, Biting, Bondage, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Power Dynamics, Punishment, Snape Lives, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:50:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the 12th day of Christmas I give you . . . messy, imperfect people. Plus kink. And love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Responsibilities

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostxWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostxWriter/gifts).



> Originally posted Jan 31st 2013 at HP Fandom as a gift. Edited upon re-posting here. 
> 
> Here is even _more_ Top!Harry. *weeps* Oh, Ghost, the things I do for you. 
> 
> Legal Shit: I don't own 'em. I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox, so please not to be kicking down my castle, beating me with a mini-shovel, or putting me in the Grown-Up Version of Time-Out, please?

Severus tried to speak, but all that made it past his lips was a jagged groan. Giving up on the notion of speech, his long fingers found their way to the platinum blond head that hovered over his groin. Lucius hummed appreciatively when he felt Severus’s nails on his scalp, causing the narrow hips under him to buck. Gagging around the sudden intrusion in his throat, Lucius placed his hands over Severus’s hips, forcing them into stillness. Just as he was slowly working his way down the thick cock, a voice cut through the relative quiet.  
  
“As lovely a view as this is . . . I ought to paddle your arses _raw,_ ” Harry remarked, lounging casually in the doorway.  
  
Lucius quickly released Severus, but the damage was done. From the look on his face—exceedingly pale, with a resigned tightness in his jaw—Severus knew it as well. Despite that, both men moved to cover their nudity, Severus more so than the blond. Lucius took a breath, about to explain, but was cut off.  
  
“Oh no, you don’t, Lucius. Don’t fool yourself—there’s no talking your way out of this one. You know the rules about you and Severus, and you chose not to ask permission or include me. There aren’t any excuses or mitigating circumstances here!” Harry’s voice grew colder, sharper; he was hurt, and any other time, Lucius would have felt remorse for causing it. Not this time.  
  
But Harry had already turned his ire on the other offender. “And you, Severus. Fuck, I’m disappointed in you. I expect behaviour like this from him—he’s a Malfoy. Rules and restrictions, limits on what he’s allowed to do—I expect him to struggle with that. But you? Your self-control is a point of pride for you, and rightfully so.” Harry was becoming more agitated, and he stopped. Going still and forcing himself to take a deep breath, and then another, he reigned in his temper.  
  
“I want both of you down the hall, in my bedroom, now. And you’d better believe that you’re both in for a tanning you’ll never forget,” Harry spoke quietly, but his tone brooked no argument.  
  
Lucius wasn’t having any of it. “No,” he said firmly, his grey eyes stormy.  
  
“Excuse me?” Harry’s voice wasn’t incredulous, it was cold. Remote.  
  
“I said no,” the blond Slytherin repeated.  
  
“Oh, I heard you. I just couldn’t quite understand what you were objecting to. Being punished for your very real disobedience, perhaps?” Harry’s eyes narrowed, and he folded his arms across his broad chest.  
  
Lucius nearly lost control of his own temper, then. “No, Harry—I wasn’t objecting to punishment, merely informing you that you have no right to punish Severus for _your_ shortcomings,” he bit out venomously.  
  
At that, Severus’s head snapped up, and he shook his head. “Don’t,” he murmured quietly.  
  
“Merlin be damned, Severus! When was the last time he took care of your needs, hmm?” Lucius turned his indignant gaze back to their Dom. “When was the last time you looked at him, Harry? _Really_ looked at him?”  
  
As much as Harry wanted to simply tell Lucius not to get lippy, the other man had an unfortunate point. Harry had been neglecting his lovers as of late. Raising an eyebrow at the irate Malfoy in silent warning, Harry then turned his gaze to the other man he had promised to push and protect and care for. Once he did, Harry immediately understood that Lucius’s censure—though not his behaviour—was founded.  
  
Severus was looking a brittle. His skin was a shade too pale, and he seemed to have shrunken, somehow. It could have been that he’d lost a little weight, bit it was more likely that his diminished state was attributable to his lack of fire. Severus looked . . . defeated. Even now, the expression on his face was merely weary resignation; the look of a man simply enduring as best he can.  
  
Harry swallowed against the bitter taste in his mouth. The truth was ugly, but that didn’t make it any less true: Lucius was right. No one who cared about Severus would be able to stand seeing him like this. And while it might be easy for some to dismiss Lucius as a man incapable of caring, Harry knew the truth.  
  
He started pacing, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. The problem here was that blame lay on all sides: on him, for neglecting Severus’s needs; on Severus, for not calling him on it; and on Lucius, for stepping in where it wasn’t his place and for not stepping up where it was. And now it was Harry’s responsibility to fix it. _I hate times like this,_ he thought to himself.  
  
Lucius and Severus watched their lover pace, his lips moving inaudibly as he thought. No matter how they viewed the situation, it wasn’t good. The longer Harry stayed silent, the more tense Lucius became. Finally, Harry seemed to pick up on that tension, and turned to both of them.  
  
“The big issue is that we’re all at fault. But I can’t let your poor behaviour go unpunished. Down the hall, now,” Harry ordered with a sigh. He had an idea, but he was unsure of how it would play out. _Time for a good old standby, then—flying by the seat of my trousers,_ Harry thought self-deprecatingly.  
  
When the three men reached the master bedroom, Severus made to drape himself over the padded spanking bench when Lucius stopped him. The weary man raised a brow, but Lucius turned to Harry in lieu of answering the unspoken question.  
  
“Harry . . . Sir. How many strokes?” Lucius inquired, switching to the honorific as the reality of the situation fully dawned on him.  
  
Harry looked at the blond appraisingly. “For you, I’d say ten for breaking the sexual contact rule, five for disrespect, and five for not bringing this to my attention in the first place.”  
  
Lucius nodded, asking, “And for Severus?”  
  
Harry turned dark eyes on the other sub. “Ten for the rule, five for not telling me that he needed me,” Harry replied quietly after a long moment.  
  
Lucius winced—his backside was going to be some kind of sore, but it didn’t make him change his mind. “I’ll take it,” he stated quietly.  
  
“You sure?” Harry asked, sliding one hand along Lucius’s cheek. The blond’s jaw clenched briefly, and then he nodded once.  
  
Severus had been watching, his eyes narrowed in suspicious confusion. When Harry ordered him onto the floor, he understood—and immediately began protesting. “Lucius, are you daft? H-Sir, you can’t possibly allow this, it’s horribly unfair!”  
  
Harry’s expression was serious. “You’re right. It’s unfair.” Severus breathed a sigh of relief. “But then, this whole situation is unfair. I should have made time for the both of you, regardless of what was going on at work. But I’m not a mind-reader, Severus; if you need something, it’s on your head to tell me. The same way that Lucius _should_ have told me when it became clear that you wouldn’t. Fair is not a word that applies to any part of this situation,” Harry replied, his voice tight. Severus hung his head and allowed his Dom to position him. He ended up sitting cross-legged before Lucius, looking into his older lover’s face. Lucius was over the padded bench that served as a spanking horse, his hands nervously clutching at the rug.  
  
Harry moved, rummaging in the toy chest. As he did, he spoke over his shoulder. “Severus, you’ll be counting the strokes. Lucius’s job is just to endure them—all thirty-five of them.” Harry walked over, paddle in hand. It was a nasty one, one he typically reserved for more severe punishment; at a foot long, and half as wide, it was carved of thick, heavy wood. What gave it its bite, however, were the two parallel lines cut through the centre of the wood, minimizing wind-resistance and allowing for faster, more stinging strokes. Severus tried not to wince when he saw it. Thirty-five hits from that particular paddle was going to be nothing short of a nightmare.  
  
As Harry settled into his stance, preparing to mete out the spanking, he stroked over Lucius’s back with his free hand, speaking softly. “Lucius, there’s no need to be silent. Severus, you may touch him, but you are to count—and losing count would be terrible for him, as it means that I start over again from the beginning.” Severus nodded—these rules were mostly standard for them, but it firmed his resolve not to cock up in counting off. Lucius was already paying for _his_ bad behaviour, and Severus wasn’t about to make him pay further.  
  
The spanking began as they always did—with the first hit setting the precedent for all that would follow. Lucius gritted his teeth; Harry wasn’t about to go easy on him simply because he was being punished for two. Severus’s voice grew unsteady and his breathing turned as ragged as Lucius’s own as he called out the strokes. By the fifteenth, Lucius was gasping as the tears started trickling down his cheeks. Severus reached out, wiping them away and tucking the long blond hair behind his ears as the spanking continued.  
  
By the twenty-fifth stroke, Lucius was whimpering continuously. It felt like his arse was on _fire_ , and there were still ten strokes to go. Harry continued paddling with the same steady rhythm he’d been using from the start, but now the seconds between strikes felt like a tortuous eternity. Lucius wanted this over, already. Severus’s cold hands were cupping his face, and it felt good, distracting him ever-so-slightly from just how badly he wanted to crawl away from his own arse.  
  
When Harry finished, the burn was so intense that Lucius didn’t even feel relieved that it was over. Focussing properly on Severus’s face, Lucius couldn’t regret it, though part of him wanted to. He’d had a good reason for what he did, and it was done now—even if the look on the other sub’s face said otherwise.  
  
There was a moment of extreme disorientation for the aching man, before he realized that he couldn’t actually stay put on the spanking bench. Harry had cast a Feather Weight Charm on him, before carefully pulling Lucius into his arms to move him onto a nearby sofa. Once he was securely tucked under a blanket, with a glass of pumpkin juice within easy reach, Harry spoke.  
  
“You did well, pet, and I’m proud of you. I’m going to put a Cooling Charm on you, so that the swelling doesn’t get out of hand, but other than that, the usual rule applies,” Harry spoke softly, hands stroking soothingly over Lucius’s body. The blond winced; having to live with this until tomorrow night when Harry would heal him was going to be anything but pleasant. “Now, you’re just to stay put and rest. You can watch, but do not touch yourself, understood?” Lucius nodded. He was in no mood to disobey.  
  
Rising with a careful look, Harry then turned to Severus. Combing his fingers through the long dark hair, he was silent for a moment. Tipping the seated man’s head so as to look him in the eye, Harry finally spoke into the quiet. “We need to have a long, long talk about all of this. About communication, and making sure this doesn’t happen again. But not tonight,” Harry gestured for the other man to rise. “For now, what’s important is reminding you that you are, in fact, still mine, and that I intend to fix this.”  
  
And then Severus felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t for weeks as Harry prompted him to lie flat on the bed, before shackling his wrists with metal cuffs. He tried to look up, past his extended arms, to see the cuffs, but the angle wasn’t quite right. Giving a sharp tug, Severus let out a breathy gasp when he felt the uncompromising metal bite into his wrists. These were not the cuffs Harry typically favoured when they played—these would leave marks, possibly even tear the skin if Severus fought too hard. He pulled again, just to experience that sensation of inevitability, to get another taste of the impossibility of escape. His eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.  
  
Harry stripped off his shirt, and Severus eyed the broad chest greedily. His cock—which had deflated completely during Lucius’s spanking—twitched subtly. Severus didn’t bother thinking about whether or not Harry had noticed, because the last few weeks completely contradicted all the previous evidence on the matter, and sorting out the likelihoods of each possibility would only give him a headache right now. Instead, Severus stared at one of the men he loved, arching a little, trying to entice him to come closer.  
  
When the only response he garnered was a raised eyebrow, however, Severus closed his eyes, and turned his head away. _I should have known better than that by now,_ a quiet, bitter voice hissed at him. He was startled, therefore, when he felt Harry’s weight settle over him as the younger man straddled his hips. He relaxed slightly when he felt familiar callused hands cup his face.  
  
“Don’t do that to yourself, Sev,” Harry whispered against his lips. “For that matter, don’t do that to me and Lucius.” The bound man fought against blushing; he was simultaneously warmed by the reassurance and appalled at his own transparency.  
  
And then some of Severus’s self-consciousness vanished under his lover’s lips moving over his jaw, down the scarred throat. Harry spent long minutes kissing and passing his tongue over each of the scars decorating Severus’s torso. It didn’t matter that Severus had often protested—loudly—against this particular act. Harry’s steadfast answer had always been that Severus’s scars tasted even better than the rest of him. They both knew it was a lie, albeit a cherished one. By the time Harry finished tasting each mark, Severus was usually relaxed and vulnerable under him; tonight, however, a small current of tension still ran through him, despite the Gryffindor’s ministrations.  
  
Harry knew that that was entirely his fault. It was only one of the many things he intended to set right—starting now. His warm hands skating across the planes of Severus’s skin, Harry nibbled and sucked his way down the lean chest and flat stomach before pausing over his groin. Severus was half-hard by now from nothing more than Harry’s mouth on him. The younger man breathed gently, and chuckled darkly when the appendage twitched in response. Letting his fingernails trail down dark-haired thighs, Harry began to mouth Severus’s cock, all wetness and heat, but no suction.  
  
Once Severus reached full hardness, Harry began lapping at the crown and sides like he was eating an ice lolly. Severus groaned, loving the sensation but less-than-pleased by its teasing nature. Because Harry was still straddling his legs, Severus shifted until his knee was able to rub against the bulge straining the zip of Harry’s denims. Harry moaned, causing delicious vibrations against his cock, but didn’t waver in his maddeningly turtle-like pace.  
  
Just as Severus wondered if his Dom’s plan was to drive him mad with touches that were just shy of enough, Harry pulled back entirely. Severus whined—though he would later deny doing any such thing. Harry merely chuckled and flipped Severus over, the D-rings allowing for the change. Harry’s hands on his body told Severus that his lover wanted him on his knees and he happily complied, certain of what was going to come next. He was wrong.  
  
Rather than the slick feel of lube, and the stretch of fingers, Severus gasped as he felt Harry’s teeth sink into the flesh of his arse. Through the sting of the bite, he missed the tell-tale tingle of a spell washing over him. He was surprised therefore, when he felt the first swipe of Harry’s tongue over his pucker. Lucius moaned from his position on the couch. Harry traced the wrinkled skin teasingly with the tip of his tongue, before making broad strokes with the flat. Severus shuddered, unable to stop his hips from jerking.  
  
Harry continued to be infuriatingly gentle and teasing with his tongue, until the man under him simply couldn’t take it anymore and began to let loose with a litany of curses.  
  
“Goddamn you . . . more, you sodding bastard! Give it to me already—you owe me that much at least, you self-absorbed twat . . .” Severus hissed brokenly. Normally, Harry wouldn’t have allowed him to be so blatantly disrespectful, current activities aside; and from the look on Lucius’s face, Harry realized that he had heard as well, and was concerned that Harry was going to reprimand their lover. Harry sent him a reassuring glance. Severus wasn’t aware of what it was, exactly, that he was saying. And even if he were, Harry was feeling masochistic enough to enjoy the caustic slide of Severus’s words over his ego.  
  
Deciding that he wanted to hear more of that broken, mindless babbling, Harry finally allowed his tongue to worm its way inside Severus’s body. He wiggled, ever-so-slightly, before retreating. Severus pulled viciously at his restraints as he tried to follow Harry’s tongue, to prevent it from leaving him. The resulting chuckle sent electricity crackling up Severus’s spine, and increasing the fragmented swearing spilling unchecked from his lips. Severus broke out in a sweat as he strained against his body, trying to force his orgasm into existence. Harry tormented him mercilessly, tonguing at his arse and feathering his fingertips up and down Severus’s rock-hard shaft. Eventually, the well of curses ran dry, and Severus slumped—his face buried in the pillow and his arse still in the air as he was reduced to a trembling, gasping mess. Exactly where Harry wanted him.  
  
Then and only then did Harry finally deviate from the insanity-inducing pace he’d been teasing his lover with for the better part of an hour. He furled his tongue, thrusting inside Severus’s body in sharp, quick jabs as he tightened his grip, beginning to pump the older man’s cock in earnest. Severus didn’t last long under the onslaught—the orgasm that had been temptingly close broke through, ripping Severus’s nerve endings apart as he quaked and lashed streams of come.  
  
After, he lay still, his flushed face now turned to side so that he could heave in great gulps of air. He felt Harry’s hands skate over him gently—over his arse, up the planes of his back, and over his arms as his Dom blanketed Severus with his own body. It wasn’t until he heard the clicks of the cuffs that he realized Harry had stretched over him for a purpose. Once released, however, Harry didn’t immediately get up. Instead, Severus was able to feel the strong beat of Harry’s heart against his back, and the soft tickling sensation of a Cleaning Charm.  
  
After a few minutes, however, the younger man did pull back—but only far enough to bring Severus’s arms down. Harry started kneading the limbs to bring circulation back, making no comment on the state of Severus’s wrists. They were red and chafed, raw in a few places.  
  
Turning his lover onto his back, Harry surveyed the marks littering Severus’s torso. Bite marks and hickeys were sprinkled liberally across the slender body, pale reds and violent-looking purples that were bright against the translucent skin. Harry couldn’t hold back a satisfied smile at the sight.  
  
Rising reluctantly from the bed—and his lover—Harry crossed the short distance to where Lucius lay on the couch. Harry drew the blond up from the sofa, and wordlessly led him by the hand to the bed. He settled the two men so that they were comfortably spooned together, Lucius’s broader body wrapped around Severus’s taller and thinner one. Lucius happily tucked his face into the crook of the other man’s neck, and Harry stroked the hair back from their faces before turning to leave.  
  
He was stopped, his hand on the door, when Lucius spoke. “What about you, Sir?” he whispered, not wanting to disturb the doze that Severus had apparently drifted into.  
  
Harry shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Luc.”  
  
Although the other man didn’t particularly want to contradict him—his arse had taken enough abuse already, thanks—the elder Malfoy couldn’t help raising a pale, incredulous brow. He could see the bulge in Harry’s jeans from across the room. There was no way he could possibly be comfortable in his current state.  
  
Harry, however, merely shook his head again. “Look . . . blue balls is the least I deserve right about now. Take care of him tonight, okay?” Harry murmured softly.  
  
“Of course I will—but where will you be?” Lucius accepted the task easily. Letting go of Harry, on the other hand . . . not so much.  
  
“Lucius, I need to go and clear my schedule for the next few days. We . . . I need to put this right, and I have to be here and focussed on us for that. I also obviously need to lay some ground rules for myself,” he replied, the self-disgust evident through his attempts to mask it.  
  
“But then you’ll return to bed with us, correct?” Lucius only half-asked, so confident was he of an affirmative reply.  
  
Harry smiled softly. “No, pet. I know that you both need comfort, but . . . I need to be alone, just for tonight.” He gave another smile, and quietly left the room.  
  
“What in the name of almighty Merlin does he think he’s doing?” Lucius muttered, thinking aloud.  
  
“He’s trying to punish himself,” came the surprisingly alert drawl from the body beside him.  
  
“And how long have you been awake?” Lucius asked archly.  
  
“Long enough to realize what he’s trying to do,” Severus replied cryptically.  
  
Lucius snorted. “He is a little hard-headed, isn’t he?”  
  
“You have no idea, Lucius. Absolutely none,” Severus replied wryly, pushing back into the warmth of the other man’s body.  
  
“He just doesn’t seem to get it, does he?” Lucius asked, settling himself into a comfortable position for the night. Well, as comfortable as he could be, what with his backside still a glowing red.  
  
“What? That taking care of him is just as much our responsibility as we are his? Of course not,” Severus grumbled slowly, sleep gnawing on the edges of his consciousness.  
  
Lucius smoothed his hands over his long-time lover and friend. “Sleep now, Severus—we can prove it to him in the morning.”  
  
  



End file.
